


Heat

by minazukihatta



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Badly written Daemon!Noct AU, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Hints of internalised racism, M/M, Sex Daemon!Noct, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 15:09:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16704871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minazukihatta/pseuds/minazukihatta
Summary: Noctis had his quirks. Quirks like having constant headaches in the capital. Quirks like having to sleep outside havens, a magic circle drawn in dirt the only thing to repel daemons. Quirks like paling under the solar lights of Hammerhead. Quirks like having a seemingly endless line of men and women leaving his room.And quirks like now, standing amongst the deteriorating bodies of daemons, a rose in full bloom where Noctis’ left eye and markings like thorns ribboning across his exposed skin. The tips of hands, reaching to his elbows had blackened beautifully and horrifically at once, showing the bones of his arm and obsidian flesh.





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> What was I thinking? Anyway, this is just a prototype fic I'm planning on rewriting anyway. 
> 
> ALSO READING THE TAGS. DUBIOUS CONSENT.

Noctis had his quirks. Quirks like having constant headaches in the capital. Quirks like having to sleep outside havens, a magic circle drawn in dirt the only thing to repel daemons. Quirks like paling under the solar lights of Hammerhead. Quirks like having a seemingly endless line of men and women leaving his room. 

 

And quirks like now, standing amongst the deteriorating bodies of daemons, a rose in full bloom where Noctis’ left eye and markings like thorns ribboning across his exposed skin. The tips of hands, reaching to his elbows had blackened beautifully and horrifically at once, showing the bones of his arm and obsidian flesh. 

 

Noctis tips his head back, fangs peeking out from his mouth. Prompto found himself unsettled by the intensity in Noctis’ remaining eye despite the lax expression on his face. Things had gone from bad to  _ terrible _ and Noctis had been thrown against a cave wall. Noctis clambered up to his feet only to have phantom vines of thorns dancing around him. 

 

“Noct?” Ignis calls out, the first one to speak even since the battle died.

 

“Ignis,” Noctis breathes out. But there was something about his voice. Melodic in a way that made Prompto draw closer to him. 

 

And then Noctis is dropping to his knees, the rose wilting from his eye and dust rising from his body. Ignis runs to him, catching the prince in his arms before he could fall to the ground. 

 

Ignis repeats his name again and again. Noctis lies against him, unresponsive, with laboured breaths and limp limbs. Prompto fishes the potion from his tactical hip pouch. Noctis’ arm is normal again, pale porcelain skin flecked with the odd scar. Prompto forces the bottle into Noctis’ hand and shattering it. Gladio stands over them, roving concerned eyes over Noctis’ form. 

 

Noctis is somewhat revitalised after a few minutes, hissing slightly as he lifts his head from Ignis’ shoulder. “Damn, took more outta me than I expected,” he murmurs. 

 

“Are you okay, Noct?!” Prompto asks. 

 

Noctis’ eye--eyes--has lost that former edge, blurring into exhaustion. “--ish,” he says. “C’mon. Gotta Royal Tomb to raid.” Oh, right. The reason they were here in the first place. Noctis shifts slightly, trying to stand. Ignis helps up, keeping a careful grip on the prince as he got to his feet. 

 

Prompto trails behind Noctis. The earlier tug he felt, an intrinsic connection that made him small and insignificant compared to Noctis is gone. “W--What was that?” 

 

Noctis opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “I’ll explain when we get outta here,” he promises. 

 

Prompto only twists the line of his lips into a grimace and nods unsurely in response. Noctis gives a heavy sigh, a finger tracing a curve beneath his eyes where the rose had been, before pushing forwards the door to the tomb, stepping forwards into the final resting place of his ancestor. 

 

* * *

 

“Long story short, my dad fucked a daemon.”

 

They all stare at Noctis blankly over the flicker of the fire. Noctis rubs two fingers against his temples. Ever since he trudged onto the formation of rocks making up the haven, Noctis had a familiar pained look on his face that Prompto used to see back when the Crown City was still shining with pride and glory. 

 

“The long story, if you would, your Majesty.” Ignis has an exasperated edge to his voice, all too used to Noct’s sudden bouts of profanity. 

 

“Right.” Noctis leans forwards on his chair, resting his arms on his thighs. “My mom’s not human. She was …” Noctis stumbles a bit. “She was a daemon in human form. Not too common. Practically nonexistent. She and my dad met during the war and thought it’d be fun to fight alongside him. Which, thank the gods, because if she chose Niffleheim, things would be so much more  _ worse _ . So at one point, she and my dad fucked and I was the result.”

 

“I do recall that I never met your mother,” Ignis says. 

 

“Yeah, same with me,” Gladio adds. 

 

“You never talk about your mother.” Prompto wonders if all the issues Noctis had with his dad, the constant absence, the awkward chats, the gap between ways of thinking and generation, pushed away any problem he had with his mother. Or maybe Noctis’ mom was the crux of the problem. Either, she was a touchy subject and quickly drawn away from. 

 

Prompto knew there was drama involving Noctis first appearing in Lucis. At first, when the sullen boy had transferred into his middle school class, Prompto had no idea he was the prince until his classmates brought magazines to school, bearing Noctis’ face on the cover, leaving the Citadel with the King’s hand on his shoulder and rumours spread like wildfire through the halls. Was Noctis a secret love child, kept hidden away by shame? An orphan the King had taken a shine to? Their questions were answered when the King publicly announced Noctis to be his heir, presenting his son to his subjects at some fancy ball. 

 

Noctis runs a delicate hand against his mother’s blade laid across his lap, the weapon yet to be vanished into the armiger. It’s beautiful in a deadly way; the midnight of the handle, the sleek curve of gleaming steel and the faint kiss of roses and thorns weaving across the blade. 

 

“Mom … died,” Noctis confesses quietly. “In Tenebrae. We were visiting the Nox Flurets there when we got attacked by the Empire.”

 

A sombre hush falls over the camp. A faint glow of red emanates from one of Noctis’ eyes, trailing slightly, with the turn of his head. A blink and it’s gone. 

 

“One more reason to pay back the Empire for what they did to us tenfold,” Noctis says and that’s that. The topic dies there. They fall back in routine, chatting quietly amongst themselves. After they’re done eating, Noctis stays back to wash the dishes while Gladio and Prompto clean up the eating area, leaving Ignis to sit by the campfire. The man had already done his share, cooking their meal. 

 

When Prompto lies in his sleeping bag, trying to go to sleep, voices outside the tent stir him. They’re low murmurs, trying to blend in with the still silence of the Leide desert. 

 

“You could have told us before all this,” Ignis says. There’s something bitter in this tone, raw, different from the pissy quality he had when Ignis didn’t have daily dose of ebony. 

 

A short pause. “Sorry,” Noctis replies. “It’s just that you spend so long trying to hide the fact that you’re half-daemon, knowing that people will turn against you for that, it just becomes second-nature.”

 

Prompto strokes an absent hand against his wristband. 

 

“We don’t think any less of you for being a half-daemon,” Ignis says.

 

Noctis snorts. “How do you think my subjects are going to react when they find out I’m a halfling as well? No matter what I do, they’re always going to see the circumstances of my birth.” 

 

Prompto remembers, the hushed whispers of adults and school children calling Noctis a  _ bastard _ , the  _ spree _ the tabloids had when it was revealed that the King had an illegitimate bastard with a commoner. He had even overheard some nobles snidely laughing about it behind Noctis’ back at an gala he was invited to--before Ignis walked over to them to deliver a burn so great, it left the ground metaphorically scorched. 

 

“Then we make your actions even greater than that,” Ignis answers. 

 

“Always got a plan for everything, don’t you, Specs?”

 

“What are you talking about? This is the same plan I have for your illegitimate birth. Be a king so great that all those who mocked you  _ bleed _ .” 

 

* * *

 

“Wait. Havens and the Wall keep out daemons, right?” Prompto points out as they head over to another tomb. The Lestallum winds breezes over them as they drive down the road in the Regalia. 

 

“Yes,” Ignis answers. 

 

“And Noct’s half-daemon, right?”

 

“Please don’t go broadcasting it to the world,” Noct pleads. “And no pictures when I’m in my other form. I’m not risking anybody finding out.”

 

“Aw, but you’re so pretty.” Prompto yelps when Noctis kicks his seat. Prompto shifts sharply to face Noctis. Noctis pointedly looks away, arm propped up on the door and his hand obscuring his cheek. “What was that for?” No response. “Well, okay. Anyway, back to my old question: how can you be in havens and Lucis when you got daemon blood?”

 

Noctis removes his hand from his face. “With great pain,” he says. “My human half--and maybe my blood--got me past the barriers. Though, they didn’t save me from the chronic pain.”

 

“Oh, yeah, you had days when you randomly got sick without having a cold or fever! Was that …?”

 

“Yup. Light magic tryin’ to push me out.”

 

“Then what happens when you put on the ring then?” Gladio pipes up. “You’re already bowling over when you take one of your ancestors’ arms. The ring keeps daemons out so what will it do for you?”

 

“If I’m lucky,  _ more _ chronic pain. If I’m unlucky, I die in a divine blaze of fire.” Prompto’s fingers clenches around the car seat _. _ “But since I can channel my magic from the crystal and use the Royal Armiger, I don’t think the ring will kill me. I think.”

 

“Well, we’re gonna need a whole lot more than  _ think _ if we don’t want our king dying out on us,” Gladio responds gruffly. 

 

“The gods want me for something. Doubt I’ll be much use to them dead.” It’s not much and does little to ease the bouncing nerves inside Prompto. Prompto settles back in his seat, feet on the dash and gaze on the road. When Prompto glances over to Ignis to ask him a probing question about their distance from the tomb, he sees the displeased grimace on Ignis’ face, slim fingers tight against the wheel. 

 

The question dies on Prompto’s tongue. 

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto doesn’t know how long they’re down here, surrounded by daemons. It could have been  _ days _ . Noctis had to go into his other form--and Prompto really needs to come up with a flashy name for that-- _ two _ times when things got really. He came out of the first one, sluggish, slow, heavy and panting and had to take a break at a warp point to recover. The second one …

 

Prompto watches as Noctis stumbles out of the cave. The rose is still there and the thorns are wrapped around his body. There’s a odd scent about him. Prompto steps closer without thinking, the floral scent wafting deliciously into his nose and …

 

Prompto wants to throw Noctis to the floor, run hands across the hard planes of muscles, suck every sweet spot, listen to his moans and  _ defil-- _

 

Nope. Nope.  _ NOPE. _ Prompto backs away from Noctis quickly, hands clamped away around his mouth and nose. Yeah, sure, Prompto had a crush on Noctis. But the thing is,  _ had _ , past tense. Back from middle school. When Prompto was still a chubby little kid and Noctis was a pretty porcelain princess. That adoration melted into admiration over time and, while it hasn’t escaped Prompto’s notice that Noctis is  _ hot as fuck _ and his  _ ass _ is  _ amazing _ , Prompto didn’t feel that  _ way _ about Noctis. 

 

This wasn’t normal. Prompto shouldn’t be heating up feverishly on the inside like this. 

 

This would appear to be the same case for Gladio who came up to Noctis to place a supportive hand on the king … only to push Noctis to the dirt and situate himself between Noctis’ legs. 

 

“NO!” Noctis pushes Gladio off him, leg coming up to kick the larger man in the chest. Noctis scrambles up to his feet. Ignis comes forwards, concern--and growing lust--on his features. Noctis holds his hands up. “Everybody back away  _ NOW! _ ”

 

Prompto, Gladio and Ignis did as told, though the distance did little to muffle Noctis’ siren’s call. The same unfamiliar desires were still roiling through Prompto. 

 

“Noct,” Ignis says hoarsely. “What’s going on?”

 

“I--” Noctis starts. He groans and claps his hands to his face. “This is so  _ embarrassing _ . Look--” Noctis wrenches his hands away “it’s gotta do with my daemon side. I don’t need to eat like the rest of you. I get energy another way.”

 

Noct’s knees buckle and he falls to the ground. Still, his hands are up, warding the others away. 

 

“And that’s …?” 

 

“Sex.” Noctis cringes after saying. “I used way too much energy back there. My body is kicking itself in hyperdrive to save itself.”

 

“Save?” Prompto echoes. “Are you  _ dying _ ?”

 

“... Yeah.” Immediately after saying that, Noctis has this expression that he wanted to die at that very moment.  

 

Well. That explains Noctis’ habit of sleeping around. An uncomfortable silence settles over all of them. The scent thickens, making Prompto move away. It wasn’t him. These feelings weren’t  _ Prompto’s _ . 

 

“How far away are we from Lestallum?” Noctis asks. “I … got a lady over there. Like me. She can help me out.”

 

“A full day’s drive,” Ignis supplies, his voice forced steady. “How long do you have?”

 

Noctis considers this. “An hour. Three, if I push it.” 

 

“That’s not enough time.” Ignis takes a cautious step forwards. Noctis flashes dangerous eyes--eye--at Ignis, commanding the man to halt without having to say anything at all. “Noct, to get energy, you need to have sex, am I correct?” Noctis stiffly nods. “If you don’t get the energy, you will die. There isn’t enough time to get to Lestallum and, even at the closest town, they may not accept your …  _ differences _ .”

 

Prompto is starting to see where Ignis is going with this. Noctis appears to have fully comprehend what Ignis is implying, going deathly still. Gladio stands there, tense. 

 

“I don’t want to  _ rape _ anybody,” Noctis growls. “My pheromones make it hard to think and I think consent is a little  _ dubious  _ in this situation. Besides,” Noctis huffs, “while my body is making me feel things I should, mentally, you guys,  _ I can’t do it. _ ”

 

Prompto makes a squeaking noise. “I know Noct is dying and  _ all _ , but despite the, uh, pheromones and the effect they’re having, I don’t … I mean, if I have to but ...”

 

Gladio drags his eyes away. “Sorry, me too. Noct’s like my little brother. I can’t.”

 

Noctis forces a light expression.“And you, Ignis? Same way for you?”

 

Ignis’ answer is immediate and without a hint of hesitation. “Noctis, I want to fuck you.”

 

Ohhhhh-kaaay. That was. Um. Err. Prompto flashes a panicked look to Gladio. What do they do?!

 

“There should be a haven nearby,” Gladio finally says. “Are you okay to get to a haven or--”

 

“Way I am right now, havens will do a lot more harm than good,” Noctis huffs out, tiredly scrubbing a hand over his face. “Just.  _ Go _ .”

 

With one last wary glance to Noctis, whose eyes are trained on the dirt, and Ignis, who stands strong and resolute, even with his clenched fist shaking, Gladio and Prompto stumble away from the scene. 

 

The fog eventually lifts from Prompto’s head, free from Noctis’ entrancing scent. Part of him still doesn’t believe this is happening. This was the stuff out of badly written pornos. Another part tried not to linger on the situation ensuing between Ignis and Noct back in the mouth of the cave. 

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis and Noctis both find their way to the haven. Noctis has Ignis’ arm thrown over him, supporting the other man’s weight as they drag their way up across the harsh terrain and up the rocky formation. 

 

“Get him on a sleeping bag,” Noctis commands gruffly, handing Ignis over to Gladio. “Ignis isn’t cooking. We’re having cup noodles tonight.”

 

“‘M not complaining,” Gladio says before hauling Ignis into the tent. 

 

Noctis seems better than he was before. Normal human eyes focused, skin more hale and unmarred by thorns, however, it didn’t erase the gaunt look Noctis had on his face. His clothes were worse for wear, tattered and torn by those days inside the tomb. 

 

“Noct?” Prompto calls out tentatively. “You okay there, bud?” 

 

“Fine. It’s just--” Noctis’ gaze flicker over to the tent. Gladio had left through the mouth, zipping up the opening behind him. “--the haven. I’m getting a migraine inside here. I’m gonna step out for a bit. Wash up at the river we passed.”

 

Gladio crosses his thick arms, scrutinising Noctis. “You sure you should be doing that?” 

 

“Doing it anyway.” Noctis jumps off the formation. He lands somewhat unsteadily on his knees, nearly falling over. He manages to find his balance quickly, taking off away from the haven. “Just make sure Ignis is okay! And give him plenty of water!”

 

“You think Ignis and Noct are gonna be okay?” Prompto asks once Noctis’ form disappears behind a line of trees. “Noct seemed pretty freaked out back there.”

 

“They’ll work it out. Ain’t gonna be easy, though. C’mon.” Gladio claps a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “You up for King’s Knight?”

 

The smile Prompto gives is wry and tentative. A small distraction to draw Prompto from the growing tension. “Sure. Why not?”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah ... This was tough to write. To elaborate, Noctis has always been conflicted about how he feels about Ignis. One part of him truly loves him but his prejudice against his daemon blood has always held him, having to sleep with other people for food. Noctis' feelings for Ignis has faded over time, however, they flare back every now and then in the simple moments when Noct watches Ignis cook or sees the man driving the regalia. Of course, open relationships exist but, at this stage, Ignis and Noctis have a lot of communication problems. Ignis holds decorum dear to him and has no made move on the king, despite his growing desires for him that were blossoming before the revelation of Noctis' maternal heritage. 
> 
> Anyway, feel free to leave a kudo! Thanks for checking this out!


End file.
